


Fledging

by shobogan



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:09:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shobogan/pseuds/shobogan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bid to prove herself to Batman goes awry, but Robins can always count on Nightwing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fledging

“Is that a challenge?”

One of the more irritating things about wearing a cowl, Bruce has found, is being unable to pinch the bridge of his nice. All he can do is sigh, and stare up into the depths of the cave.

“No, Robin.” It’s funny, how easy it’s become to call her that in only a matter of weeks. He feels a distant pang of guilt - he hasn’t even told Tim about this yet - but it’s swiftly brushed aside. (That became easy a long time ago.) “I don’t actually want you to punch Scarecrow in the nose.”

She knows very well it was just an example, a demonstration of difficulty; that doesn’t stop her from pursing her lips and crossing her arms. “I _could_ , though. I beat the crap out of Penguin - “

He meets her gaze again. “That wasn’t authorised.”

He expects that to deflate her a little; instead, she snaps back a slightly smug retort. “It was authorised by Oracle.”

He opens his mouth, and then he shuts it. Touché.

“You had Batgirl with you.”

Her gaze darts away, just for a moment - why did _that_ trip her up? - but then, “Sure, but you didn’t say I had to do it alone.”

“I didn’t say you had to do it at all.”

“But I can!”

“No, you can’t!” The second he says it, he knows it’s exactly the wrong reply. One way or another, Stephanie is going to punch Jonathan Crane in the face.

Well. He might as well use this as an opportunity.

“Take Nightwing with you.”

 

Dick was stunned, when he got the call. He knew how and why Tim had hung up his cape; he didn’t know that Spoiler had taken it up instead. The rest of the conversation didn’t put him at ease; words like “probation” and “trials”, stern reminders not to disclose any secret identities. He barely bit back “is she Robin or not?”

But arguing with Bruce wouldn’t do Stephanie any favours, and he really did want to see her in action for himself. So here he is, crouching on a Gotham rooftop, hoping he doesn’t make any mistakes.

“Are you Nightwing or one of the gargoyles?”

He grins despite himself as he hears her land, pushing himself up, standing and facing her in one smooth movement. “I’m much prettier.”

She considers him gravely, for a moment, tapping her chin. (It’s the most he’s ever seen of her face, at least in person. She’s kind of adorable.) “Not as pretty as Huntress.”

That shocks a delighted laugh out of him. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Her grin is unabashedly relieved, and he realises she must be ten times as nervous as he is. “How about we spar a little? Get to know each others’ moves, before we use them on Scarecrow’s guys.”

After a second’s hesitation she nods, a little frantic with excitement and anxiety. Once they start, he realises it was definitely the right move. She relaxes quickly as they trade blows, absorbed completely into the rhythm of strikes and parries.

She’s not as polished as Tim, but she moves with a brutal sort of grace, and her instincts are on par with his own. It lasts longer than he intended, and they’re both panting by the time he signals her to stop.

“You’re good, Robin.” It feels _strange_ , calling her that, and he can’t help but feel an absurd sense of betrayal. But it’s dampened when she flushes and beams.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He steps close enough to clap her on the shoulder. “Let’s go find some henchmen.”

 

He was worried about the surveillance - that was always the hardest part for _him_ , in the early days, sitting still and silent for hours on end - but he didn’t need to. She’s not unlike a gargoyle herself, kneeling the shadows and peering through her binoculars.

He feels a bit silly, remembering that she trailed her father around Gotham on her own. (How old was she then, fourteen?) All he needs to do is show her the best spots for hiding the Robin colours.

They get a short reprieve, when their current targets step inside a warehouse, and she murmurs, “So, um - why these colours? They’re not exactly stealthy.”

He chuckles under his breath. “That was the point. I’d draw attention, and let Batman skulk.”

“He’s a very good skulker.”

“The best.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her worry at her lip. “What?”

“I - growing up, you were kind of my hero. You and Batman. You made me think I could be a hero, too, but - “

A sudden crash interrupts her, and in seconds they’re both leaping, flying, fighting. He’d hoped she was just as natural in a real fight, and she is; there’s no doubt, no fear, no wavering. Their teamwork isn’t seamless, and they both take a few hits they didn’t have to, but it’s nothing time and practice couldn't cure.

 

The rest of their hunt goes much the same way. There are a few fumbles, here and there - at one point they almost bump heads, and burst out laughing - but they find Scarecrow’s latest hideout in record time. Breaking in isn’t even that difficult, relatively speaking. That doesn’t set off his own alarm bells; Batman had said Crane’s current operation had already been gutted by the GCPD. He shouldn’t even have any fear gas.

Apparently, he had a hidden supply.

It’s not as troublesome for Dick, but Stephanie hasn’t had any fear gas training. Hearing her anguished sobs as she lashes out against Scarecrow’s men are enough to make nightmares flicker in his eyes. He sees her battered and bloody and broken, sees her gravestone beside Jason’s -

He takes out the rest of the henchmen with a desperate, ruthless brutality. When Robin is the only one left standing, he catches her fists in his hands, holding her still. She stares up at him with wide, haunted eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough I just wanted to be a hero - “

“Robin.” He knows how to make his voice strong and soothing, how to grip her hands just hard enough to anchor her to reality. “You’re safe. We’re all safe.”

She’s not struggling now, but her breath still comes in short, sharp gasps. “Tim - Cass - “

“They’re okay. I promise.” He feels her relax, and he pulls her in for a tight embrace, sinking them to the floor and letting her shake and sob against him for a while.

When she pulls back, she doesn’t meet his eyes, and her voice is low and hoarse. “Guess I’m not punching Scarecrow.”

Dick smiles down at her; it doesn't matter, that it breaks open a cut on his cheek. “Next time.”

He can almost see her eyes go wide behind the mask, as she looks at him. “You still - ?”

Still believe in her. Still like her. Still want her. Yeah, he knows what that feels like.

He reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. “No hero wins every night, kiddo.”  
They have time.


End file.
